“See, if you kept a better schedule,” Will continued, “you wouldn’t be so desperate to shag whenever you get a free second.”

“Schedule?” Henry asked.

I sat forward, smiling. “He means his calendar of women. Our Will here might not be attached or fucking everything in a skirt, but he’s certainly never at a loss for company. He keeps his ‘relationships’ neat and tidy and in regular rotation on his calendar.”

Will frowned while Henry looked between us, obviously confused, and asked, “Wait. Are you telling me you schedule your booty calls?”

“No,” Will answered, glaring in my direction. “It means the women I’m involved with each know about the other. They also know I’m not interested in anything more for the time being, which works perfectly because neither are they. Everyone gets what they want.” He threw his hands up and shrugged. “You won’t find me running to the pharmacy, or banging a girl in the middle of a work meeting because I can’t find any other time in my schedule.”

“Right . . .” Henry and I said in unison.

The car jolted to a stop and we each moved to a window. “Looks like we’re finally here,” Will said. “Jesus, what took so long?”

The door opened and we climbed out in front of the Wynn, taking in the scene around us. It was chaos. Rows of cars lined the curb, many of them still running and with the doors left open. Handfuls of bewildered attendants stood around in small groups, obviously at a loss for what to do.

“Looks like there’s a broken hydrant on the property,” our driver said, motioning over his shoulder. “I can drop you off but it’ll be at least an hour before I’d be able to get back in to pick you up.”

The other two rounded the car to join us and I sighed, looking down to my watch. “Shouldn’t be a problem,” I said. “We’re having dinner and something tells me it’s not going to be quick.” I was torn between wanting a night out with my best mates, and wanting to make sure Sara was sorted. I was growing more wound up, feeling restless and edgy despite the time I’d spent with her just an hour ago.

The driver nodded and we left him at the curb, moving inside and deeper into the casino, following the signs until we’d reached the restaurant. There was a club nearby and the persistent thump of music could be felt through the walls, through the floor, as we crossed the sleek restaurant and each took a seat at our table. The pulsing music mirrored the tension building in my limbs, the rhythmic beat of Sara Sara Sara humming beneath my skin.